aftershocks
by sunspots and raindrops
Summary: When everything is breaking and it feels like the stars will never shine again, she will let him get lost in her constellations and pray that it's enough to bring him back from the edge. — [NaLu, spoilers for ch. 465, takes place somewhere between 478 and 483; contains mature content.]
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 _blood on the street like I blacked out,  
_ _ghosts in the air, like I'm wack now –  
_

 _now I'm here thinking that I messed up;  
_ _never my intention, no, never my intention, no._

 _._

Natsu had not said anything truly substantial since waking, and it didn't surprise Lucy in the least. He'd never been one to bare his true feelings, never been one to reveal his vulnerability, always playing the smiling savior or righteously indignant hero or, more often than not, an infectious reason for laughter. It was clear he felt that he was made to uplift and protect, to stand between danger and his comrades, and the sudden knowledge that he had instead been forged in death and created to _destroy_ was a harsh truth that rendered his heart molten and raw, left it uncertain, unstable.

She did not know if it was because she loved him, or because they knew each other so well, or simply because it was, perhaps, plainly obvious, but Lucy could see it in his face – his smiles were too bright, as if their blinding quality would wash out the darkness that threatened to eclipse him. But it lurked there, beneath the tanned skin that was taut over his cheekbones, behind the brittle fragments of his irises. She had sensed it even before Happy had confessed to her the details of their encounter with Zeref, tears in his voice as he confided in her just how scared he was.

It pained her every time her gaze met Natsu's, because without fail she saw the conflicting emotions that waged war inside him – the regret at not being strong enough to die, to sacrifice himself so he could put an end to everything and save everyone else – and yet still, the desire to live, to hang on tenaciously with the basic human instinct to _survive_. But Lucy could not think of a way to help him, and that was what broke her heart the most.

In the heat of battle, she had found herself distracted, but having been sent home to rest after their skirmish with Jacob, a profound helplessness pervaded her thoughts. Bathwater sloshing over the side of the tub as she lifted herself out, Lucy sighed. There was nothing she could do, and her mind was only running in circles. She grabbed a fluffy yellow towel, the bright color doing little to cheer her as she secured it around herself. _I almost wish there was another battle I could jump into,_ anything _to give me something else to think about_ , the blonde contemplated wistfully. _Moping around all evening hasn't helped anyone, least of all Natsu._

She pulled open the bathroom door, absently running a hand through her bangs, and looked up to see the very subject of her thoughts sitting on her bed. Hand dropping to automatically secure the terrycloth that preserved her modesty, she opened her mouth to chastise him in her usual fashion... but stopped before she could emit even a sound. Happy was not with him, and Natsu had not looked up at her entrance, just remained perched on the edge of her bed as if on the verge of flight. His hands were interlocked, serving as a chin rest, and a few locks of spiky pink hair threw part of his face into shadow.

"Natsu?" she voiced cautiously, almost afraid to disturb him. Something was wrong, his posture positively _screamed_ it, and the fact that he was _showing_ her that something was wrong frightened her almost as much as the brokenness she had seen behind his eyes. When there was no response, she asked gently, "Why didn't you tell me you were here?"

He stood, still not quite looking _at_ her, just facing her general direction, eyes focused on anything but her as he fidgeted with pent-up energy. "You were in the bath, I didn't want to bother you."

Moving closer to him, she said, "You wouldn't have bothered me, Natsu, it's okay." Slim fingers reached out to brush his arm before returning to her towel – a tentative act of comfort, one she hoped wouldn't scare him away. "What are you doing here? Are you… Are you okay?"

Lucy already knew the answer to the latter question, but for some reason, it slipped out anyway; maybe it was just a force of habit, her instinct to care for those around her, to give them the opportunity to vent to her, to be a good _friend_ above all else.

And it was when he replied that she became painfully aware that he was far more damaged than she had first realized; his eyes finally found hers and there was so much despair there that Lucy could barely hold back a choked gasp of shock and sorrow.

"I didn't know where else to go," Natsu said simply, and it sounded less like a statement and more like a plea, an admission of weakness from someone too close to the edge.

She still could not find it in her to reply, pity and heart-wrenching love welling up in her chest until they seemed to fill her throat to the point where she could not speak.

He broke their gaze, turning away. "I'm sorry, I think this was a mistake. I think I should go–"

"No!" Lucy found her voice again, startling them both with her exclamation. "Don't go," she said, calmer this time, petite hand returning to rest on his arm. "You can stay."

Dark eyes locked onto where she was touching him, and he only whispered, "Okay. Thanks."

They stood there like that for a few moments, neither really knowing what to do with his acceptance of her invitation. Lucy felt nervous and awkward, an odd state for her to be around one of her best friends, and she channeled the energy into doing what she did best — taking care of others. "Well, why don't I make you some tea and we can talk about whatever it is that's bothering you!" she chirped brightly.

But when she attempted to bustle into the kitchen, Natsu's hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned, but his hand did not drop and his face was somber. "I don't want any tea, Lucy."

"Are you sure? Oh, all right, well maybe a glass of water?" Her expression turned thoughtful, "I think I might have some cookies or some leftovers or something, do you want–"

"No, thank you," he interrupted, voice unusually polite but gaining a strained edge.

Brown eyes widened as Lucy registered the fact that Natsu – _Natsu!_ – had turned down food. She was still unsure of what to do, how to comfort, and the uncertainty was making her rife with more nervous energy than she knew how to handle.

"Okay," she said softly, her brows tilting in concern as she studied the carpet beneath her toes. "So… What _do_ you want, Natsu?" Lucy did not ask what he needed, because it was clear that even he did not know the answer to that, but whatever he _wanted_ , whatever he was there for, she would do everything in her power to give it to him.

Again, her question was greeted with silence. "Do you want to… maybe… talk about it?" she tried, tone almost cajoling.

This time, his reply was immediate and fierce, "No."

"Alright, so no talking," the blonde confirmed quietly, raising her head to assess his expression. It was tight-lipped, control attempting to hold back anguish and desperation. So she – slowly, like she might break him – raised her fingers to trace the tender skin where sleepless nights had left dark shadows, whispering sadly, "I wish I could help you, Natsu... Please, just tell me how to help you."

The silence stretched between them for a minute that felt like hours, an excruciating waiting game. Lucy watched his eyes and observed a different kind of conflict there – they were hollow and hungry and afraid, afraid to be alone, and she saw him fighting to keep those emotions at bay. And finally, she realized what she could give him – the very thing she had been wishing for in the bath – the gift of distraction, the comfort of forgetting.

He must have seen the dots connect in her head, because half of her name came out in a low, strangled groan from his throat, and Lucy knew that this would only be a temporary fix, a bandage on a broken bone, but it was something she could give him. And it may not have been what he intended when he climbed in through her window, but at least it was _something_.

So she let her fingers trail down his face to brace herself against his chest, and leaned up on tiptoe to breathe into his ear. "Natsu, it's okay. I want to… Let me help you forget."

"Lucy…" he protested weakly, hands hovering at her waist, not quite holding her but treacherously indicating that he wanted to. She felt him shake his head slightly, unruly pink hair brushing against her cheek. "You don't know what you're saying," Natsu whispered and his voice was unsteady – soft and needy, in denial.

It struck her that the the dragon slayer did not know how to ask for what he so clearly wanted, and since her verbal offer hadn't moved him to lower his guard, she pulled away, moving back in the direction of the bathroom. His eyes were closed, but she could wait, and she leaned against the doorjamb patiently.

When at last he decided to look at her, Lucy did not rely on speech – she was serene and moved with a careful deliberateness that kept his eyes on her. There was a measured purpose in her actions and she did not look away from him as her hands loosed the knot in her towel, parting the ends and hanging it on the knob just beside her.

The action had left her completely naked, but a flush did not rise in her face; she did not move to cover herself or shy away. She simply stood there – calm, unembarrassed even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of her apartment. Lucy was not conceited, but her body was her body, and she had never seen any sense in being ashamed of it.

Again, she waited, brown eyes flicking over the features of Natsu's face to gauge his reaction. He had not said anything, but he had not stopped staring either, so she took that as a good sign. Still watching him, she lifted both hands to her scalp to release her bound hair, letting it cascade in golden waves to her shoulders.

This elicited a response – still not words, just a long and shaky inhalation – and Lucy peered at him through half-lowered lashes. "It's a bad night to be alone, Natsu," she whispered.

Evidently, he was tired of fighting what they both seemed to want, because even after all his previous attempts at stoicism, he flew into a whirlwind of motion – scarf and vest cast off as he strode over to where she was still framed in the doorway. There was still desperation in his eyes, but they also swirled with desire and relief as he braced his arms on either side of her, leaning down to murmur brokenly against her cheek, "Yes, Lucy, it is."

And with that the dam had burst; there were gasping breaths between their lips, the slide and press of mouths and tongues that left Lucy clinging to his biceps, her body pressed up against the doorframe. He was all hunger and want, one broad hand gripping the span of her waist, the other between her head and the hard surface of the wood behind her.

She was content to let him kiss her as long as he wanted, but she could practically feel the urgency hammering through his bloodstream, so when he licked and nipped his way to her ear she was not surprised to hear him say, "Bed. Now."

She nodded, and he wasted no time lifting her easily and laying her on the bed, only joining her when he'd discarded the rest of his clothing. They lay beside each other first, just kissing, but after some time, hands began to roam – hers to skim the supple skin overlaying his muscled torso, his to caress the dips and rises of her curves. Innocent, curious touches grew bolder, and when a calloused thumb brushed over a nipple, Lucy could not help but moan against his throat, fingers tightening in his hair.

They explored each other for what seemed like a nanosecond and a lifetime; she did not want him to stop and yet it was not _enough_. Boldly, she grabbed his palm and guided it down, down, down her body until it reached where he had yet to venture. His fingers slid between her thighs and she parted them slightly, keeping her hand on his, showing him just where she wanted to be touched. A muffled sound of approval reverberated in her throat when he got there, and she lifted her hand away, wanting to let him discover just how to touch her.

Natsu had simply needed a nudge, for now he made her moan and writhe, seeming to drink in every one of her reactions; his lips and free hand descending to her breasts to elicit more. "Na… tsu…" she panted with slight exertion after a few minutes. This got him to look back up at her face, and she maneuvered to grasp him in one hand, stroking gently. His eyes slammed shut, lips parting in pleasure, and Lucy kept up the easy pace until he snatched her hand away, pinning both her wrists above her head.

He did not have to say anything for his meaning to be clear; his body was bowed over hers, eyes full of fire that said _no more waiting_. So she spread her legs and he climbed between them, one hand still holding her arms captive above her. For a moment, he did not move, simply laying there, weight resting on his opposite elbow. But she was growing impatient – she was more than ready for him, and she needed him, wanted this, and she knew he did, too.

When she tilted her hips upward to encourage him, he rocked forward, teasing her with a shadow of the pleasure she wanted. But it was not enough, and she opened her mouth to inform him of that fact; instead, he bucked against her, giving her what she wanted and turning her half-formed words into a groan of satisfaction. "Yes, _Natsu_ ," she hissed, hands anchored in the rumpled duvet.

At the sound of his name from her lips like _this_ his fingers tightened around her wrists as he kissed her hard, a play for control and possession, and Lucy let him win. As he moved, she could not help thinking of the depth of her love for him – he was wild and dangerous, feral in this moment, but she could never be afraid of him. She knew that his desire to dominate was partially a product of his frustration, of his inability to control everything else; he was so lost, and she did not mind being his anchor, did not mind letting him have her in every meaning of the word.

Maybe he loved her back, but that was not what Lucy was looking for in the artificial light neither of them had bothered to shut off; this was not _making love_ , this was just sex, and that was okay. _She_ was not the one who needed most, he was. And what he needed was to feel like he was not alone, to get lost in her and forget about everything else.

He took his hand from her wrists, sliding it beneath the small of her back as he moved backward to rise to his knees. Her lower body was lifted to match up with him again, wrapping her legs around his waist as he moved, and it was not long until Lucy was sure she'd lose herself, tangled up in sensations of him.

"Natsu, I–" Her words were cut off as he pinned her back down to the bed, body sliding against hers again, delicious friction in all the right places. Wordless moans tumbled from her lips urgently, mumbled syllables of _more_ and his name. And when he bit down on her collarbone, fingers pinching one pink nipple as he growled a command – " _Come for me, Lucy_ " – she did, back arching and fingers scrabbling uselessly down his back.

Panting slightly, she opened her eyes again to find him watching her; his gaze was steady and he moved slowly, riding out her climax and wasting no time igniting the fuse again. Manicured fingers threaded through Natsu's hair, and he leaned in to kiss her again, the alternating pressure mimicking the way he was moving inside her. Soon enough she turned her face to the side to sigh breathily, an _oh_ of sensitivity and pleasure, and it set him off.

Sliding back just enough to slip out of her, urgent hands helped her flip over, gripping her hips and pulling her up onto her hands and knees. Lucy did not protest; though his grip was bruising and the pace he set was punishing, he was _deep_ and it felt so _good_. Falling to her elbows, she clutched her pillow, face buried in the soft material to muffle the sounds she was making.

Eventually, she felt him lean over her to breathe against her spine, groaned curses washing over her skin. Craning her neck, Lucy freed her mouth from the pillow to mumble, "Natsu… please!"

"Please what?" he demanded, punctuating his words with a jerk of his hips.

"Touch me," she cried, edging closer to desperation.

One hand leaving her hip, he complied and was immediately rewarded with a hissed, " _Yes!_ " He stroked her in tandem with his thrusts though his body was shaking and he was close. Lucy was writhing, pushing back against him wantonly in search of more, and her release overtook her suddenly, leaving her to collapse onto the bed, only held up by his hold on her hips as he finished savagely behind her.

Lucy knew they had crossed a line, but she was too sleepy and sated to care as she flipped onto her side, dragging a sheet over them. Their sweat-slicked bodies got stuck together at all the wrong places when he laid beside her, but it didn't matter. His hair tickled the back of her neck as he tugged her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her shoulder blade, murmuring her name like a prayer.

When she felt his breathing even out in the easy pattern of sleep, she turned carefully, fingers brushing his face tenderly as she whispered so quietly that they were barely words – "I love you."

A second later, Natsu's eyes cracked open, and her soft smile disappeared instantly when she realized he'd heard her. Panic set in, afterglow banished by her racing thoughts and she opened her mouth to say something, _anything_ –

Until she realized that the darkness in his eyes had faded and shrunk; it was still there, but was no longer the kind of deep abyss that Lucy had feared seeing earlier, and there was the faintest sliver of happiness peeking through. His lips met her forehead, and she closed her eyes contentedly when he sighed, "Thank you."

It was not a declaration of love, but it was good enough for her – she knew he was still conflicted about most everything, and maybe he didn't feel like he was in any place to love her back, but he was not broken and he would let her in, let her help, so she did not need words to tell her how much that meant. She snuggled into his chest and said sleepily, "Any time."

They were not perfect, not by a long shot, but Lucy knew that nothing ever was, and she'd be happy to puzzle through their imperfections together – content to wait for him as she always had, until the storm passed, until his heart was whole enough for him to say the words back to her.

 _But until then_ , Lucy thought as unconsciousness took hold, _Until then, this will be enough._

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Just wanted to update this doc to give a huge **THANK YOU (!)** to everyone who has taken the time to read this/add it to their favorites/review! The feedback has been more than I ever anticipated, and I appreciate it so very much. You guys are awesome!


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